The farthest Thunder that I heard
Was nearer than the Sky
And rumbles still, though torrid Noons
Have lain their missiles by —
The Lightning that preceded it
Struck no one but myself —
But I would not exchange the Bolt
For all the rest of Life —
Indebtedness to Oxygen
The Happy may repay,
But not the obligation
To Electricity —
It founds the Homes and decks the Days
And every clamor bright
Is but the gleam concomitant
Of that waylaying Light —
The Thought is quiet as a Flake —
A Crash without a Sound,
How Life’s reverberation
Its Explanation found —
(Emily Dickinson)
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